


Wind Storm

by SparkleMoose



Series: Ventus [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Found Family, Good Dad Fugaku, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rewrite of As The Wind Blows, Slow Burn, uchiha family feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/pseuds/SparkleMoose
Summary: Akira had plans for his life. Dying and being reborn as Sasuke's twin brother? Was nowhere in those plans.(Or the rewrite of As the Wind Blows no one asked for but you're getting anyway.)





	1. Hurricane

Akira is six years old and standing at the gates of Konoha’s Shinobi Academy when he catches sight of the Hokage Monument. It’s not the first time Akira has seen the faces of the four Hokage’s, nor, he thinks, will it be the last. Yet for some reason, Akira gazes at the Hokage Monument and everything shifts.

His vision becomes sharper, and he turns his gaze to those around him. Akira can read the body movements of those around and suddenly knows what they are going to do next, the flexing of their muscles giving each movement away. Akira shifts his gaze to the Academy building and can make out the grains of concrete in the building.

But more than that, more than the sudden clarity of everything around him, Akira _remembers._

He remembers barely being able to see stars at night. Remembers towering building and busy, snow-covered streets. Akira remembers the chill of below zero air and the way his sisters would laugh when one of them made a bad joke.

Akira remembers a complete other life. A life where he had younger sisters instead of two older brothers. A life where he was twenty-six and a former thief. A life where he hadn’t been born into luxury and a life where he had only seen the Academy he is currently standing in front through TV screens.

Akira takes a shuddering breath in and reaches out to clutch Sasuke’s hand. Sasuke is here, Sasuke is here and so are their parents and Akira-

Akira is filled with an overwhelming sense of love and affection toward the family around him. They are his, his family, his home. His mother and father and his two older brothers.

They’re his, and he can’t let anything happen to them.

He remembers a massacre, remembers how he watched with pity and horror as Sasuke stumbled upon the scene of his clan's murder. Akira remembers watching through a screen as Itachi - their brother - tortured Sasuke and drove Sasuke on to a path of vengeance.

More than that, Akira remembers being enraged at how Hiruzen had done nothing to help Sasuke.

In the span of a second it takes for Sasuke -six and young and so, so fragile - to glance at Akira and gasp in surprise Akira has made up his mind to keep Sasuke safe at all costs. If their village won’t help Sasuke than Akira will.

Sasuke is his twin. Sasuke is his brother. And Akira will die before he lets Itachi hurt Sasuke.

Suddenly their father is standing in front of Akira, Sharingan spinning and Akira wonders why for a moment before his attention is taken by the scar on his father’s face. It’s odd, Akira thinks, that he had never noticed it before. Akira reaches out absentmindedly and stretches to touch the scar that slides down his fathers’ right cheek.

Whatever is happening to his vision, Akira decides, is strange and unnerving, he can make out the pores on his father’s face and the smallest wrinkles that line Fugaku’s mouth from years of frowning.

Akira’s hand leaves his fathers’ face and Akira barely has time to blink before his father is moving and it’s the training that’s been ingrained to him since birth and the way he had seen how Fugaku’s muscles had tensed that allows Akira to dodge the blow to his temples.

“Fugaku,” Mikoto chides, amused, “At least give the boy some warning.”

“He just activated his Sharingan,” Fugaku retorts, “He had all the warning he needed.”

Akira blinks twice. “What?”

Mikoto steps into view and for a moment Akira is stunned by her porcelain features. She looks like a queen like a fairy tale come to life. She’s stunning and Akira can’t help but smile back at her as she grins at him.

“You’ve activated your Sharingan, dear,” Mikoto says, clapping her hands together, “We can’t let you miss your first day though. So your father is going to put a temporary block on the chakra pathways to your eyes so you can make it through the day without exhausting yourself. Is that alright?”

Akira gets the feeling that he doesn’t really have a choice in this matter but he nods anyway.

Fugaku moves closer this time, Sasuke watching their every move, and raises his arm more slowly. Akira feels a pressure on his temples, a sharp stabbing pain in his eyes before his vision changes. The details, the smallest things that he hadn’t been able to notice before are suddenly gone. He can no longer see the grains in the Academy building feet away, nor can he make out the pores on his father's face. Even the scar that runs down Fugaku’s face Akira has to strain to make out when before it had seemed obvious.

“Brother?” Sasuke asks, curious, “Are you alright?”

Akira turns his head and smiles at Sasuke. “Yeah,” he lies, “I’m fine.”

Fugaku huffs like he doesn’t believe Akira and moves out of the way. “We’ll talk when you get home. And Akira?” Akira turns to face his father, “At least try to have a good day alright?”

Akira nods, unsure of how to react to the fact that Fugaku seems to care about him. It makes sense, the memories of this life assure him that while Fugaku is gruff and subtle in his affections Fugaku does care about his children and so he must care for Akira too. Still, it’s odd seeing him care when the manga and anime hadn’t shown their audience that much of it.

Akira’s train of thought is derailed when Sasuke grabs his hand and starts pulling him toward the Academy gates.

“Come on!” Sasuke cheers, “Let’s go.”

A laugh startles itself out of Akira, and he lets his little brother lead the way to their classroom.

* * *

Their first day is easy. The class goes around introducing themselves and it’s only the mask that Akira’s been taught to wear since birth that prevents him from slipping up and calling himself by his old name.

He isn’t Felix anymore.

He’s not sure how to feel about that.

Beyond that first incident, the day passes normally. There’s a headache pounding at Akira’s temples, it feels like someone is beating his head with a stick, but he still manages to get through the day without anything else happening.

At least, he thought that was the case, before the final break of the day they were given a test to see what the class knew of science, math, and tactics. Since most of his class are clan children, Akira had high hopes for them.

Which was why he doesn’t bother to hold back. It doesn’t occur to him not to, purposely downplaying his abilities doesn’t even cross his mind.

He leaves the classroom with Sasuke he feels eyes on them. Looking back reveals that Mizuki, a teacher for another class, is watching them.

Akira glares at the chunin who merely raises his brows in response.

Akira shifts closer to Sasuke as they leave.

It doesn’t matter if Akira was someone else before. Sasuke is still important to him. Sasuke is still his brother, his twin, and Akira will do anything for him.

It crosses his mind that Mizuki might have been looking at him and he bristles. Akira refuses to be used by someone like Mizuki. Refuses to be used by someone he doesn’t care about.

As Akira and Sasuke walk home, Sasuke keeps looking at Akira like he wants to say something, like he wants to ask Akira how Akira awakened his Sharingan. Sasuke looks like he’s barely keeping himself from asking numerous questions and Akira is grateful for it because he doesn’t want to talk about it.

He doesn't want to talk about activating his Sharingan, doesn't want to talk about how it felt to have literal decades of memories invade his skull. Doesn't want to talk about how it felt to suddenly not belong to a family that had raised him for six years. He doesn't want to deal with the fact that he's either gone mad or has been reborn into what he thought was a fictional universe.

Most of all Akira doesn't want to think of the fact that he's six and he's awakened his Sharingan  
from the sheer stress the memories of a past life had caused. He doesn't want to think of his older brother Itachi who is going to kill them all. He doesn't want to think of his brothers when he's only ever had sisters before.

But he has too, has to acknowledge Sasuke walking next to him, acknowledge the fact that he's  
going home to a family that will want answers Akira doesn't want to give.

So he'll lie to them, and while something in him twists at the thought, Akira had always been good at lying as Felix. Felix had been a delinquent as a teenager before getting his act together, lying to get out of tough situations was his specialty. But Akira was different, softer, kinder, everything Felix had tried to be as an adult but failed at.

No one would suspect Akira of lying. He was almost grateful for that.

The Uchiha Clan Compound rises in the distance and Akira is almost grateful to see it, to get away from Sasuke who has bright eyes and endless questions. It makes him feel guilty that he wants to get away from his brother, from his best friend, but Akira doesn’t think he can handle talking to his brother, his brother who turns traitor, about his own Sharingan right now.

Akira’s relief is diminished when he realizes that he’s going to have to talk to his father and mother about how he activated his Sharingan.

Stopping, Akira groans, his hands coming up to rub at his temples. The headache is still there, and as time goes on it seems to get worse.

“Akira,” Sasuke says, lily-sweet and innocent, “Are you alright?”

Akira blinks open eyes he didn’t realize he closed and grimaces, “I’m fine,” Akira says, “It’s just a headache.”

Sasuke nods once. A determined glint in his eye. “We should get you to Father.”

Akira wants to disagree.

He can’t find a reason to.

* * *

Akira's head is throbbing and feels like it's going to explode by the time he and Sasuke manage to get home. It hurts so much Akira all but stumbles through the door. His vision hazy and head spinning. Sasuke, worried about the state his younger brother is in, is hovering, anxious and fidgeting.

"Father," Sasuke calls out once they're inside the house, grabbing Akira and forcing him to sit down on the steps in the entrance way, "I think something is wrong with Akira!"

Neither of them hear their father approach, Sasuke too preoccupied with his worry and Akira sitting on the steps leading further into the house with his elbows on his knees, his palms digging into his eyes.

"Akira," Fugaku says, his voice calm, but commanding, it's the voice of someone is used to power and it makes a part of Akira stand on edge. Akira has never liked authority, never liked people in power because they always abused the power they held over others.

He wants to believe his father is different, experience doesn’t tell him if his father is different or not. But his memories-

His memories say that Fugaku is just as bad as every other man with power and Akira doesn’t know what to think. He wants to trust that his father won’t use him, won’t send him to face bloodshed and battle before he is ready but he remembers what happened to Itachi and-

He can’t trust his father won’t.

Akira stares into the eyes of his father, and wishes he could believe that Fugaku is a good man.

“Yes?” Akira says, his eyes stinging the longer he stares at his father. Fugaku is surprisingly gentle in his next movements, sitting down next to Akira and brushing a strand of Akira’s dark hair - _Felix had light brown hair but Akira doesn’t_ \- out of his face.

“I’m going to release the blocks I’ve put on your Sharingan,” Fugaku says, voice almost soft, “You are going to be very dizzy and might throw up.”

Akira grimaces. “Alright.”

Quick as a whip, Fugaku’s fingers come up and press Akira’s temples before retreating just as fast. Akira gasps as his vision goes black for a moment before it comes back in startling focus. With the return of his vision comes the disorientation that Fugaku spoke of.

Akira bites back a curse and clutches his head until the world stops spinning.

Beside him, Fugaku huffs a laugh. “Come,” he says just as Akira looks up, “We’ve much to discuss.”


	2. the crow sang awful songs

Fugaku has questions, or at the very least, Akira assumes he does. It’s hard to read his father’s -not Dad but Father- face. Fugaku is stoic as he leads Akira into one of the training rooms in the family manor. The Clan Head lets nothing show on his face and Akira’s legs want him to run as fast and as far as he can.

He knows what happens, after all, he knows that he will die, that his father will die, that his brother - and isn’t it just his luck that Itachi is on a mission? - will kill him and their mother. That Obito helps murder their entire clan.

Akira thinks of the lady who gives him dango, thinks of the many people he knows inside the Clan Compound and the thought of them dying causes bile to rise in his throat. The part of him that’s Felix, that’s 27 and jaded screams at him to run, to save himself and damn everyone else. They get what they deserve, don’t they?

But their Clan doesn’t deserve to be crushed, to die by the hands of those it trusted.

Akira’s legs want him to run.

But he is six and still loves his family.

He follows his father into the room and stays standing even as his father sits on one of the mats on the floor.

“Akira,” Fugaku says, “Do you know why you awoke your Sharingan.”

Because I died, Akira thinks, Because I had a family. Sisters who need me and I died and couldn’t do anything about it.

Akira doesn’t say that. Instead, he lies.

“No,” Akira says, “I don’t.”

“How did you feel when you were at the Academy?”

“Overwhelmed,” Akira says, “Scared, excited.” Hopeless, lost, he adds to the list in his head.

Fugaku’s eyes narrow, and Akira is left standing there for several, tense seconds before his father’s shoulders relax and something like approval passes through Fugaku’s eyes.

“I believe your strong emotions this morning led to you awakening your Sharingan,” Fugaku says, “You could have come to your mother or I if you had concerns about the Academy.”

It’s an empty gesture, Akira knows, even if he hadn’t wanted to go into the Academy he would have been forced to. All prospective heirs of the Clan are made to attend the Academy no matter their feelings on the matter. Still, the idea that Fugaku and Mikoto would be willing to even hear him out sends a warmth tingling through his chest.

His family cares about him and oh, Akira loves them so much.

“Yeah,” Akira says, a lump in his throat, “I- I know.”

“Very well,” Fugaku says as his eyes soften for but a moment, “Let’s begin your training.”

* * *

Akira learns the hard way that just because he has the ability to use the Sharingan now doesn’t mean he can use it without repercussions. It takes training, his father had told him, to be able to use the Sharingan in a fight. If one activated their Sharingan without the proper training it could lead to a moment of blindness that would be fatal in a fight.

Akira wishes he was born with a dojutsu that didn't require standing in a room with his father while his father coached him in trying to withdraw the chakra that was feeding into the Sharingan. The Sharingan is like a leech, trying to feed on Akira’s chakra stores and Fugaku had given Akira a lecture about how it was dangerous for him to have it activated all the time. As though Akira was going to use it more than he had to.

It’s like a loop, Akira thinks. He has to make his chakra turn back before it can reach his eyes and activate his Sharingan, breaking the loop would, in turn, activate the Sharingan whenever Akira wanted to ruin someones day.

His father had explained to him that unlike forcing the chakra that led to his eyes back like he had done before, forcing your chakra paths to not let your chakra flow to your eyes thus activating your Sharingan was the easy way to ensure you didn't burn yourself out from chakra exhaustion. It also didn't lead to headaches after you mastered it and didn't make you want to rip your eyeballs out of your skull.

The Sharingan required chakra to work, and though the amount needed to activated it was fairly small keeping it activated was another matter as it keeps consuming chakra once activated.

“Time,” his father says, and Akira groans and clutches his head, letting his Sharingan flare once before his eyes fade back to their natural black.

“How long?” Akira asks.

“Four hours and six minutes, without a mistake.” Fugaku says, “You’re showing rapid progress.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Akira confesses.

Fugaku’s smile is small but proud. “It never does. Come now, your Mother and Sasuke have prepared dinner.”

* * *

The six-year-old memories say that Itachi wouldn't hurt Akira, but Akira doesn't know how much he can trust those so he ignores them instead. Itachi made Sasuke see the death of their parents after all. It goes without saying that even if Akira does survive the massacre he's probably going to wind up even more messed up.

Akira nearly snorts at the dinner table. As if he could wind up more messed up than he is.  
Akira knows his father is watching him, knows his mother is too. Knows that the two of them are waiting for him to slip up and accidentally activate his Sharingan.

Control is everything to the Uchiha and if you can't control your Sharingan you’re as good as dead on the battlefield so what use are you to the clan?

His memories say that his family won’t toss him out, and Akira wishes he could believe that.

Sasuke is an energetic sweet child, and because of this Akira feels more like his older brother than his younger one.

Akira doesn't slip up once during supper, something he's oddly proud of.

When supper is finally finished, Akira takes to his room after taking his mother for the meal and helping her and Sasuke clean up. It's Sasuke's night for dishes but that doesn't mean Akira is excused from helping to clear the table.

Once in his room, Akira softly closes the door behind him and blinks back tears.

He had died.

He had died. He had been an adult and he had died all because of some stupid car. It hadn’t been the way Felix had thought he was going to die. More than once he had joked that he would wind up stabbed in a prison yard. For even a reformed criminal is still a criminal and God knows how many people Felix has pissed off over the years.

But that doesn’t matter now. Nothing Akira had done as Felix matters because Felix is dead. Felix is dead and gone and all that remains in his place is a child that feels old and empty. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies the mirror his mother had gifted him on his fifth birthday.

Turning to face the mirror fully, Akira examines himself. Long black hair held out of his face by bobby pins and tied into a ponytail. His bangs frame his face and the baby fat on his cheeks accompanied by his wide, doe-like eyes make him look adorable.

Akira leans closer to the mirror.

His eyes, he thinks, makes him look like his mother.

It leaves him unsettled. A part of him thinks he shouldn't look like this while another thinks that he should, that this is what he's supposed to look like. That all Uchiha have this colouring so why shouldn't he?

Because he's not an Uchiha, Akira thinks. Because he's an impostor wearing the skin of someone who shouldn't exist.

Akira leans closer to the mirror.

His eyes, he thinks, makes him look like his mother.

* * *

The days until Itachi returns pass calmly. Akira still practices his control over the Sharingan, Sasuke helps Akira train by refusing to leave his brothers side and watching Akira like a hawk for the slightest hint of red in his eyes.

Mikoto jokes that Sasuke is prouder of Akira than Akira is of himself.

She isn’t wrong.

Still, there are other things Akira could be doing, so he sits about teaching Sasuke the little things he learned as Felix. Akira hones his skills in pickpocketing and lockpicking. He shows Sasuke how to lift things from people’s pockets and how to break into even the most secure houses and he stresses the importance of only using these skills on missions and not on random civilians.

Or unwitting clan members.

That last one is just asking for disaster.

Sasuke and Akira spar as well and Akira uses it as a way to blend his old fighting style with his new one. Felix’s style had been all about force, about getting the job done as fast as possible and damn the consequences. The style they’ve been learning at the Academy is different, it holds more grace to it. Shows one how to glide between enemies like a dancer while the Uchiha Clan style that they’ve been learning since they could walk is more direct. Focused on damage and killing quickly and silently rather than dodging.

It’s late at night, after a sparring session that had dragged on between the two brothers for longer than either had meant it too when Shisui and Itachi catch Akira picking the lock to their living room window.

"Sasuke," Akira says slowly, because he's used to dealing with his over-excitable brother by now, "The more you hover the longer this is going to take." That is a lie, Akira has gotten into and out of houses before under more pressure and in less than five minutes, but playing down his abilities never hurt.

“I’m not hovering!” Sasuke protests. Before Akira can reply to Sasuke, there’s a certain something in the air that makes itself known to him.

Akira pauses, unlocks the window, and whirls around with his eyes bright and red. It feels like something is there, watching them. It doesn’t seem dangerous but-

Well, as an Uchiha in Konoha one could never be too careful.

"I thought the village was training shinobi not thieves," Shisui Uchiha says with a whistle, his eyes locking with Akira's red ones, "Though I hear that being a criminal is a pretty good way to get in trouble with the police.”

Akira bites back the urge to tell his cousin that they are the police and frowns at Shisui who takes his time in stepping out of the shadows instead.

“We were locked out,” Sasuke says in a valiant attempt to defend them.

“You know where the spare key is Sasuke,” Itachi says, stepping out of the shadows as well and coming to a stop next to Shisui.

“Itachi!” Sasuke launches himself as his brother and Akira wants to stay tense, wants to be alert and on guard but-

But his brothers are happy and together and Akira relaxes despite himself, his Sharingan fading.

“Hey, big brother,” Akira says, ignoring Shisui, “Welcome home.”


	3. roses set on fire

Itachi’s lips quirk into a smile and despite the fact that Akira knows that Itachi will kill him, despite the fact that Akira knows how this tragedy ends, a small flicker of warmth lights up his heart as he reads nothing but warmth in Itachi’s gaze.

That’s his brother, a part of him says, Itachi is his brother and would never hurt him. And oh how Akira wishes that was true.

Akira’s feels oddly brittle as he smiles at his brother. There’s a flash of something that could be concern in Itachi’s eyes before Itachi shakes his head and ruffles Sasuke’s hair.

“It’s good to see you two are doing fine without me,” Itachi teases and Akira covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter as Sasuke pouts.

“We are doing fine!” Sasuke insists, “Akira’s been teaching me a lot of things!”

“Oh,” Shisui says, curiosity lighting up his face, “What sort of things?” Sasuke flushes and looks away from their older cousin, fidgeting with his hands and suddenly bashful he looks like the epitome of cute.

Akira barely resists running over and squeezing his cheeks.

“Lockpicking,” Akira answers instead of Sasuke, “I picked it up a while ago. We’ve been digging into setting traps as well.”

"Now we lock each other in rooms and see how long it takes the other to get out," Sasuke adds, and Akira really doesn't want to know what Itachi thinks of him teaching Sasuke how to break and enter.

Shisui makes an amused sound from beside them, and despite the disapproval Itachi tries to convey there’s still a hint of a smile on his face.

"It's a game then is it?" Shisui asks, amusement colouring his voice, "If you guys get any good at it I'm sure ANBU would pick you two up in a heartbeat.”

Akira’s eyes widen at the mention of ANBU, his mind going to Danzo and the slaughter of their clan. In front of him, Sasuke lights up as though it’s his birthday.

“Really?” he asks, tugging on Shisui’s shirt, “Do you think so?”

Shisui laughs. “I’m sure they’d be more than happy to have such talented young people join.” Shisui winks at Akira and Akira stares back.

What was that about?

Then Sasuke turns his gaze to Akira, looks at Akira like Akira’s opinion means everything and Akira forces a smile. He doesn’t want to be ANBU, doesn’t want Sasuke to be ANBU either but-

But the world they live in thrives off the exploitation of child soldiers and Akira would do anything for Sasuke.

“I’m sure we could join ANBU if we tried hard enough,” Akira reassures Sasuke who beams at him in return.

“Yes!” Sasuke says, pumping his fists, “We’re going to be the best ANBU ever! We’ll train really hard and big brother and Shisui will help us! Right?”

Sasuke turns his hopeful gaze on the two young men and Akira has the pleasure of watching them fall to Sasuke’s charms.

"Of course," Itachi says, sounding distant, "But ANBU is very hard to get into, you'll have to train even more than you are now."

Sasuke makes a sound of agreement.

"Of course we will! There's always time for training!"

Shisui laughs then, bright and loud and Akira is fairly certain the sound wakes his parents up.

"I'll help you guys then, Little ANBU," Shisui teases, placing his hands on his hips, "After all, I'm sure you'll need all the help you guys can get."

“What’s this about ANBU?” a distinct, feminine voice interrupts whatever was going to be said next and Akira freezes.

In front of him, Itachi’s eyes widen, Shisui looks around for an escape route, and Sasuke looks as though he’s debating the merits of throwing Itachi in front of him.

Akira turns around slowly, and smiles at his mother.

“Hello, Mom,” he says, forced cheer evident in his voice.

“Mother,” Itachi greets.

“Mom,” Sasuke says, timid and a bit afraid of their mothers' wrath.

“Sasuke,” Mikoto says, her face blank but somehow disapproving, “Why are my children out so late?”

“Uh,” Sasuke says.

“Um,” Akira says at the same time. Akira looks back at Sasuke to see his twin looking like he’s at a loss for words so Akira continues. “I was breaking into our house?”

Mikoto, who is standing in the living in front of the window that Akira had opened, crosses her arms. Her face still and blank as a piece of paper.

Akira ignores the instinctive urge to hide from his mother’s fury.

“I can see that,” Mikoto says dryly, “Shouldn’t you and Sasuke be in bed?”

“Yes,” Akira says, “We should be.”

Mikoto raises a brow. Shisui snickers only to shut up when Mikoto’s Face Of Disapproval turns on him.

“I should go,” Shisui says and disappears in puff of smoke.

Their mothers gaze turns back to them.

“Well?” she says.

Sasuke and Akira hurry inside the house and to their rooms.

* * *

Shisui, Akira finds, actually keeps his promise to train him.

“Come on, Little Bird,” Shisui teases when Akira scowls at Shisui for waking him up early on a Sunday, “The day waits for no one!”

“It’s not even dawn yet,” Akira points out, shrugging on a sweater with the clan crest on it to combat the early morning chill. “Why are you here?” Then as an afterthought, “I’m not a bird.”

“Itachi seems to spend more time training with Sasuke,” Shisui points out, “And I’m not sure why you seem to be avoiding your brothers, but I figured that your training is suffering for it so here I am! Now come on, we have some studying to do.”

“I do enough studying at the Academy,” Akira deadpans, following Shisui out the window of his room and onto the rooftop.

“So you say, but here you are, outside, with me,” Shisui grins as Akira scowls.

“I’m interested,” Akria grudgingly admits, “You’re one of the best, you have to have some sort of useful knowledge.”

Shisui rolls his eyes. “Is that all you’re here for? My skills? Why Akira I’m hurt, I thought I was your favorite cousin.”

“I don’t have a favorite cousin,” Akira says.

“What an Uchiha like thing for you to say.”

“Shut up Shisui,” Akira says, “What are we doing up so early and where are we going?”

Shisui places a finger to his lips. “You’ll see.”

* * *

Training with Shisui, Akira thinks as he dodges another blow that had been aimed for his head, is a lot like training to be an Olympic Athlete. The pace is intense and relentless but Akira-

Akira finds himself enjoying. Finds himself getting better at a pace he didn’t think he could manage. He finds himself winning in spars against Sasuke and passing on what he learned from Shisui to Sasuke just as Sasuke passes on Itachi’s teachings to him.

Shisui’s pace may be relentless and unyielding, but Akira has gotten faster thanks to the weights Shisui makes him wear and has gained a new appreciation for Taijutsu. It’s not just enough to be able to knock someone out with a single punch, one must be quick enough to avoid attacks as well, and Shisui is an expert at that.

Akira knows Shisui holds back when they spar and he’s thankful for that almost, thankful that Shisui gives him a chance to breathe and strike in return.

Finally, their spar ends and Akira allows himself to flop onto the grass.

“Wiped, huh?” Shisui says, “You’ve gotten better though, held out a mintue longer than last time.”

Akira groans in response and rolls over onto his stomach.

  
He doesn’t tell Shisui to fuck off, but it’s a near thing.

* * *

Akira has been eyeing the senbon in the clans weapon shop for a while now.

So, of course, Shisui notices. He tells Akira to read about lethal and non-lethal points in the body that could be easily incapacitated by needles.

Akira nods, and takes to memorizing every nonlethal and lethal point he could send senbon to.

It takes weeks but when he finally has them all memorized Shisui sets up a board with the vague outline of a person on it.

Akira watches him set up impatiently, eager to see if he's skilled enough with senbon, he's trained with wooden ones after all, to actually land a lethal blow on the target.

Shisui steps away and claps his hands together before gesturing to the senbon, the real senbon, he's given Akira for this exercise.

"Alright kid," Shisui says, clapping his hands together and moving out of the way, "Give it your best shot."

Akira picks up the senbon beside him, takes a deep breath and relaxes his muscles before opening his eyes and firing at the target.

Frowning Akira looks at the target, while all the senbon he threw did land inside the bodies outline none of them were aimed with enough accuracy to cause lethal damage.

Akira huffs. Sure he may have incapacitated the target, but his goal was a lethal blow.  
What good was a shinobi that wasn't able to kill something?

A hand lands on his head and Akira looks up to see Shisui smiling at him.

"Let's try that again." He says.

Akira agrees.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey..  
> hey......  
> have some fluff.....  
> you'll need it for the next chapter owo

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up ten months late with starbucks* what's up my dudes did you miss me? anyway, i was editing AtWB chapters when I realized that I am not Happy with how it was so I took it down for rewriting. I posted about that on my tumblr @ sparklecryptid, which you should probably follow if you want updates like that on shit, but I'm back!
> 
> with a rewrite!
> 
> which will have a hell of a lot more stuff and some major plot changes because im like that.
> 
> anyway hope you had fun reading and leave a comment or kudo if you feel like it.


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